he doesn't even have facial muscles
by davekatts
Summary: in which you internally question how your skeleton friends function and end up bone deep in love with one of them (sans/reader)
1. Chapter 1

i wanted to write undertale bc i love sans and my friend gave me a prompt that doesnt even apply yet.

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There isn't really any discernible point at which you became best friends with two skeleton brothers. It just happened, and you'd always wonder what choices you made to lead you to them. The friendship began with just casual chatting whenever you ran into each other around town, and ended with you at their house every night, eating mediocre (to be generous) spaghetti and watching bad movies on their change-filled couch. It was a life that you'd never expected to lead, and you had absolutely no qualms.

Papyrus was a good friend. He called and texted you fairly often and was always available to hang out. Whenever you came over he'd cook, and while his food was rarely edible the sentiment was still touching. His excitement was endearing, and while his constant screaming was startling at first, you were almost completely used to it now.

Sans was almost the opposite. He was calmer and somehow more collected, though his weird ketchup love and joking nature made him approachable and strangely charismatic. He was someone you could joke with about Papyrus, and you went out for dinner together often because of his brother's cooking misadventures. The two of you got along well, and you'd felt a connection though you couldn't say exactly what it was.

Your friendship with them was easy and comfortable, and there had never been any doubts about how much you cared about them nor any sudden developments and complicated feelings. At least, there hadn't been until one night.

Your turmoil began when the three of you decided to rewatch Con Air. Papyrus was the only one who hadn't seen the movie, and jumped at the opportunity once you revealed that you owned the dvd and told him that it was the best bad movie you'd ever seen. Around the beginning of the night Papyrus had been making popcorn for everyone as you and Sans fought for the remote and made Nicholas Cage impressions, quoting the iconic lines.

Sans grabbed for the remote in your hand, and you shook your head dramatically, holding it out of his reach. "Sorry boss, but there's only two men I trust. One of them's me. The other's not you."

He closed his eyes and shook his head at your delivery of the quote, and Papyrus returned, flopping on the couch between you and Sans. He lifted the bowl of popcorn above his head with a triumphant grin. "PAPYRUS THE GREAT HAS acquired THE SNACK!"

"Pap, just start the movie."

The opening scene began, and you reached into the bowl for popcorn without looking. You popped a piece in your mouth before choking immediately. Is this burned?

Sans and Papyrus turn, looking at you cough for air. Sans looks vaguely concerned while Papyrus's eyes are wide with worry.

"Human! Are you alright?" His boney fingers grip the bowl with so much force that you just can't help but wonder. You really don't understand how it doesn't slip into the air with the lack of grip. Unless skeleton fingers somehow can grip things? What a mystery.

You cough a little more before waving your hand. "No, I'm-I'm good. Just, uh, popcorn is a little…burned."

You flinch into the air as Papyrus comically throws his arms in the air with an upset yell. "What a…what a _boner_!"

Your throat is sore and your mouth tastes of ash, but you still laugh immediately. Sans glances at you, and grins at your mirth. You try to stop laughing, but all you can hear in your mind is Papyrus yelling "boner" in the most agitated way ever.

Sans is quiet as he moves next to you, though his grin is as big as usual. "Sorry my brother's such a… _bone_ head."

You snort at the pun as your hysteria dies down, and he pats your back lightly. "Hey, Sans," you start. He looks at you expectantly and you can't stop the mischievous grin that makes its way onto your face. "This sure seems like it's going _tibia_ fun night."

Your breath catches as his grin widens to the biggest you've ever seen and he gives you a look so affectionate you find yourself wondering why you aren't swooning into his arms at this very second. Time seems to stop and you're acutely aware of your breathing and the beats that your heart is skipping.

You're brought out of your strange trance when you hear him repeating your name. You shake your head to clear your thoughts and put on a smile as he jokes about you spacing out worse than he does considering he literally has no brain.

The rest of the night passes with Papyrus constantly pausing the movie to ask if you're okay, and if his popcorn did something to your human body because wow your face is as red as the sauce he uses to cook his amazingly delicious spaghetti. All you can do it wave at him and reassure him that you'll live regardless of how terrifyingly burnt the popcorn was. You only look at Sans when he addresses you, and after a while he starts giving you slightly confused looks due to your rushed replies. On one hand you're concerned about his reaction to _your_ reaction to him, and on the other you're just wondering how these two have such varying expressions when they are literally made of bone.

The movie ends and you rush home almost immediately, yet again reassuring Papyrus that you'll be fine and giving an awkward wave and smile to Sans, who returns the wave and smile but with an new emotion that you've never seen and can't exactly read. The walk home is pleasant though cold, but you can't complain about the cold seeing as it was your decision to even live in Snowdin.

As you get inside and close your door, you shake off snow and shrug off your thick winter wear, making your way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water before you pass out on the cough. You're exhausted, and you don't even know why. Maybe it was all that thinking you did during the movie. All the conflicting emotions threw you off so bad you almost didn't cry at the ending of Con Air, and you _always_ cry. You lie down in bed, thinking of everything that happened over the course of the day, though you only really think about Sans' grin as you made that bone joke.

You haven't felt like this about anyone in years, much less a skeleton. What did you do in your life to lead you to feel this way? Your hands fly to your face and you scream into your palms at the acceptance that _oh my God_ you want to bone your skeleton best friend. You can't help but dryly laugh as you think about how Sans would feel about your choice of words, and you fall asleep thinking about his grin and how you've really made a boner this time.

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tfw ur skeleton brother doesnt understand the meaning of boner as its used in modern society


	2. Chapter 2

thanks so much to everyone who subscribed and liked and stuff! it really means a lot omfg

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You wake up in the morning to an incessant buzzing coming from your phone. You tiredly chuckle as you scroll down the notifications that are increasing by the second, and read the message previews as you walk to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Papyrus is hysterical with worrying about you regardless of your insistence that you're fine. Half of his messages are him demanding to know if you're alive, and the other half are selfies with him looking sadly into the camera. You laugh and unlock your phone, tapping on his icon to get rid of the 100 notifications that he's plagued you with.

You place your phone down for a few seconds so you can chug water, and pick it up to see at least five new texts.

"HUMAN, WHY ARE YOU NOT REPLYING."

"HUMAN, WHAT HAPPENED."  
"ARE YOU OVERWHELMED BY MY CONCERN?"

You smile at the last two texts, which are photos of his face twisted into a comically exaggerated frown that is probably completely sincere, knowing Papyrus. You shoot off a quick affirmation of your health, and he sends back a few pictures of him smiling in sunglasses with a paragraph about how cool he is for nursing you back to health through sheer power of will. After a few more messages about how you really are fine and thanks for worrying, you place your phone on your bed and go to shower.

The water is hot, something you're especially grateful for after the freezing cold air that seeps into your room every morning. You're still smiling, thinking of Papyrus's concern for you. You always have a good time when you're with them, just joking around and watching movies. You finish up your shower, toweling your hair off and pulling on some comfortable clothes.

A tiny bell noise goes off across the room, and you go to your phone, picking it up. You unlock it without looking, expecting another message from Papyrus, but as you see the sender you freeze. Sans's contact photo is a picture you snapped of him when you all went out to the actual movies once. He's laughing at Papyrus, his eyes almost closed and his head thrown back. You'd all been kicked out of the theater because Papyrus had gotten too involved in the movie and had started screaming. It was the main reason you all watched movies at their house, rather than outside around others. Not everyone was as accepting of his quirks as you and Sans, regardless of his status as the Royal Guard Captain.

You look at Sans's message for about five minutes, not actually reading it but just staring at the short text.

"grillbys at 8? y/n"

You don't know what to think. It's not like this is the first time he's asked you out to dinner; you both go out often enough that random texts like this aren't usually stressful. Ever since your weird emotional revelation the other night though, you've felt strange about Sans. Liking your best friend was something you'd never really experienced, and you cared about the two way too much to do anything about your crush lest you ruin your relationship with both of them.

Sans probably didn't even like you in that way. You were just close friends, and that was how it should stay. Even as you tried to convince yourself that nothing would change—that nothing could change—you still felt an aching in your bones (wow) to be near him regardless of how you felt. After all, your friendship was significantly more important than some crush that developed seemingly out of nowhere.

Your phone buzzes again, and you flush with embarrassment when you see Sans's follow up text.

"if you don't want to its cool tbh"

You start to reply when you're interrupted by another text.

"you don't need to worry about hurting my feelings, nothing gets under my skin."

"mainly because i literally don't have any"

You don't even know what to say. What a nerd. You simply reply with "see you at 8" and put your phone so you can put your head in your hands. This was either going to be normal or a complete disaster, and it was all up to you to not destroy your friendship.

The pressure is almost stifling, and you open a window to get some cold air into your suddenly burning hot room. Funny, you were literally just complaining about it being too cold and now you're almost literally burning up. God, you wish you were literally burning up. Then you wouldn't have to go to this dinner and embarrass yourself.

Your phone rings again, and yet again you're plagued with Sans.

"k pick you up at 7"

A groan automatically leaves your mouth, and you slump onto the ground, leaning on your bed. It isn't like you don't want to see Sans, in fact, it's the only thing you want right now. The problem is just now that you've come into the realization that you're hardcore crushing on your best friend, you'll have no idea how to act around him. Ugh. Crushes are hell.

You pull yourself up and drag yourself to your closet to pick your outfit because anything's more productive than moping around, and you don't want to be freaking out about your outfit ten minutes before you meet. You lay out your favorite yet most comfortable outfit, because while you want to dress to impress there is the small possibility you'll run out crying and that is an outcome you are _not_ going to want to be in fancy clothes for.

After throwing the clothes on your bed you flop down next to them, setting an alarm on your phone for an hour before you leave. A nap seems like the perfect solution to calm your jittery nerves. You fall asleep almost immediately and dream about fire and skeletons.

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thanks again! i swear i wont end all these chapters with sleeping. more sans next chap tho, get ready for FLUFF and STRESS


	3. Chapter 3

im so sorry this is short but i had a massive writers block and i finally got back into the groove story plus i felt bad i was gone for so long i just uploaded what i could. forgive me

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You're woken up by a cold, hard, hand on your shoulder. You groan, burrowing into your pillow to try and fall back asleep before you suddenly remember that you live alone. You shoot up, scrambling across your bed before you recognize the intruder and flush in embarrassment.

"Sans?" You glance at your phone. It's 6:30, and you feel a rush of shame come upon you. Why didn't your alarm go off? Did you sleep through it? You look back at the skeleton by your bed, and your hands cover your face. "I'm so sorry."

He shrugs, his ever-present smile seemingly nonchalant as ever. "It's no big deal."

You drag your feet out of bed, hands in your hair as you try not to freak out. "Do you like, want water? Soda?" God, what do skeletons even drink? _How_ do skeletons even drink?

Sans shrugs again, taking a step back. "I'm just gonna go wait out there. You can get ready and stuff."

Before you can even open your mouth to reply, he's gone. Literally. In the blink of an eye, he's gone from standing right in front of you to slouching on your couch right in the middle of your living room. Geez. Papyrus may complain about Sans lounging around everywhere, but you have to admit he sure can move disturbingly fast when he wants. A scenario pops into your mind of Sans using that speed to push you against a wall and kiss you, before you shake your head, blushing. That's _not_ a thought you want to have right before you go to dinner with him. Additionally, how would he even kiss you? Would he smash his skull against your teeth? You're angry at how you probably wouldn't mind.

"You ok?"

Sans is looking at you from his spot on your couch, his expression as amused as a flesh and muscle-less skull can possibly look. You just slam your door in response, and hear his deep chuckle through the door. A warm feeling in your stomach blooms at the sound, and you are _so angry_ about how completely gone you are for this lazy sack of bones.

Changing doesn't take long, since you chose your outfit before you passed out, but you still take a while to prepare. While you logically know this isn't a date (since the two of you are just _friends_ ) you still can't help but worry if you're dressed appropriately. You especially fuss with your hair, and while you know Sans probably won't judge you because y'know, he _has no hair_ , you're still especially conscious of it. In the end you just leave it how you normally do. You don't want him to think you're trying too hard and making this dinner into more than it is.

You walk out into your living room, stopping next to your couch where a tiny skeleton is sitting. You start to say something, but notice that Sans's eyes are dark, which you guess means he's asleep? A small smile unintentionally makes its way onto your face as you watch him rest. His jacket moves as if he's breathing, even though he has no lungs and doesn't need to breathe. At least, you don't _think_ he needs to breathe? God. Skeletons, right?

Suddenly two lights flash into his sockets, and you see him looking right at you. You can feel your face start to flush, and you straighten up, looking away and rubbing at the back of your neck like a complete nerd.

"You look nice." he says sincerely, and your heart literally skips a beat. _God_ you want to smash that grinning face against your own .

You choose not to reply with a thanks, because you have your dignity to maintain and also you think you might actually start crying. "Get up, lazybones," you grumble, making a point not to look at him even though you know for a fact you're as red as the damn ketchup Sans probably has in his coat.

He stands, stretching his limbs out. You hear popping noises, and you use sheer power of Determination to not wonder how his stretching even works. However, in refusing to contemplate the workings of your friend, you end up looking right at him. He's smiling and you want to die.

"Well? Lazybones is up and ready." he grins, and it's as sincere and affectionate as it was the night before.

Sans holds out his arm for you to take, and as you link with him the only thought on your mind is exactly how boned you are.

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rly tho thanks to everyone who reviewed and added and all that jazz! it means SO MUCH like yall have no clue. ily all so much 3 ill try not to be gone for like 7 years again so expect more within the next. week? week. *crosses fingers*


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